战争与和平(上)-第79章

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riding…breeches。　The　German　woman　of　the　house　popped　her　head　out　of　a　door　at　Rostov’s　loud　voice。
“A　pretty　woman；　eh？”　said　he；　winking。
“Why　do　you　shout　so？　You　are　frightening　them；”　said　Boris。　“I　didn’t　expect　you　to…day；”　he　added。　“I　only　sent　the　note　off　to　you　yesterday—through　an　adjutant　of　Kutuzov’s；　who’s　a　friend　of　mine—Bolkonsky。　I　didn’t　expect　he　would　send　it　to　you　so　quickly。　Well；　how　are　you？　Been　under　fire　already？”　asked　Boris。
Without　answering；　Rostov；　in　soldierly　fashion；　shook　the　cross　of　St。　George　that　hung　on　the　cording　of　his　uniform；　and　pointing　to　his　arm　in　a　sling；　he　glanced　at　Berg。
“As　you　see；”　he　said。
“To　be　sure；　yes；　yes；”　said　Boris；　smiling；　“and　we　have　had　a　capital　march　here　too。　You　know　his　Highness　kept　all　the　while　with　our　regiment；　so　that　we　had　every　convenience　and　advantage。　In　Poland；　the　receptions；　the　dinners；　the　balls！—I　can’t　tell　you。　And　the　Tsarevitch　was　very　gracious　to　all　our　officers。”　And　both　the　friends　began　describing；　one；　the　gay　revels　of　the　hussars　and　life　at　the　front；　the　other；　the　amenities　and　advantages　of　service　under　the　command　of　royalty。
“Oh；　you　guards；”　said　Rostov。　“But；　I　say；　send　for　some　wine。”
Boris　frowned。
“If　you　really　want　some；”　he　said。　And　he　went　to　the　bedstead；　took　a　purse　from　under　the　clean　pillows；　and　ordered　some　wine。　“Oh；　and　I　have　a　letter　and　money　to　give　you；”　he　added。
Rostov　took　the　letter；　and　flinging　the　money　on　the　sofa；　put　both　his　elbows　on　the　table　and　began　reading　it。　He　read　a　few　lines；　and　looked　wrathfully　at　Berg。　Meeting　his　eyes；　Rostov　hid　his　face　with　the　letter。
“They　sent　you　a　decent　lot　of　money；　though；”　said　Berg；　looking　at　the　heavy　bag；　that　sank　into　the　sofa。　“But　we　manage　to　scrape　along　on　our　pay；　count；　I　can　tell　you　in　my　own　case。　…”
“I　say；　Berg；　my　dear　fellow；”　said　Rostov；　“when　you　get　a　letter　from　home　and　meet　one　of　your　own　people；　whom　you　want　to　talk　everything　over　with；　and　I’m　on　the　scene；　I’ll　clear　out　at　once；　so　as　not　to　be　in　your　way。　Do　you　hear；　be　off；　please；　anywhere；　anywhere　…　to　the　devil！”　he　cried；　and　immediately　seizing　him　by　the　shoulder；　and　looking　affectionately　into　his　face；　evidently　to　soften　the　rudeness　of　his　words；　he　added：　“you　know；　you’re　not　angry；　my　dear　fellow；　I　speak　straight　from　the　heart　to　an　old　friend　like　you。”
“Why；　of　course；　count；　I　quite　understand；”　said　Berg；　getting　up　and　speaking　in　his　deep　voice。
“You　might　go　and　see　the　people　of　the　house；　they　did　invite　you；”　added　Boris。
Berg　put　on　a　spotless　clean　coat；　brushed　his　lovelocks　upwards　before　the　looking…glass；　in　the　fashion　worn　by　the　Tsar　Alexander　Pavlovitch；　and　having　assured　himself　from　Rostov’s　expression　that　his　coat　had　been　observed；　he　went　out　of　the　room　with　a　bland　smile。
“Ah；　what　a　beast　I　am；　though；”　said　Rostov；　as　he　read　the　letter。
“Oh；　why？”
“Ah；　what　a　pig　I’ve　been；　never　once　to　have　written　and　to　have　given　them　such　a　fright。　Ah；　what　a　pig　I　am！”　he　repeated；　flushing　all　at　once。　“Well；　did　you　send　Gavrila　for　some　wine？　That’s　right；　let’s　have　some！”　said　he。
With　the　letters　from　his　family　there　had　been　inserted　a　letter　of　recommendation　to　Prince　Bagration；　by　Anna　Mihalovna’s　advice；　which　Countess　Rostov　had　obtained　through　acquaintances；　and　had　sent　to　her　son；　begging　him　to　take　it　to　its　address；　and　to　make　use　of　it。
“What　nonsense！　Much　use　to　me；”　said　Rostov；　throwing　the　letter　under　the　table。
“What　did　you　throw　that　away　for？”　asked　Boris。
“It’s　a　letter　of　recommendation　of　some　sort；　what　the　devil　do　I　want　with　a　letter　like　that！”
“What　the　devil　do　you　want　with　it？”　said　Boris；　picking　it　up　and　reading　the　address；　“that　letter　would　be　of　great　use　to　you。”
“I’m　not　in　want　of　anything；　and　I’m　not　going　to　be　an　adjutant　to　anybody。”
“Why　not？”　asked　Boris。
“A　lackey’s　duty。”
“You　are　just　as　much　of　an　idealist　as　ever；　I　see；”　said　Boris；　shaking　his　head。
“And　you’re　just　as　much　of　a　diplomat。　But　that’s　not　the　point。　…　Come；　how　are　you？”　asked　Rostov。
“Why；　as　you　see。　So　far　everything’s　gone　well；　but　I’ll　own　I　should　be　very　glad　to　get　a　post　as　adjutant；　and　not　to　stay　in　the　line。”
“What　for？”
“Why；　because　if　once　one　goes　in　for　a　military　career；　one　ought　to　try　to　make　it　as　successful　a　career　as　one　can。”
“Oh；　that’s　it；”　said　Rostov；　unmistakably　thinking　of　something　else。　He　looked　intently　and　inquiringly　into　his　friend’s　eyes；　apparently　seeking　earnestly　the　solution　of　some　question。
Old　Gavrila　brought　in　the　wine。
“Shouldn’t　we　send　for　Alphonse　Karlitch　now？”　said　Boris。　“He’ll　drink　with　you；　but　I　can’t。”
“Send　for　him；　send　for　him。　Well；　how　do　you　get　on　with　the　Teuton？”　said　Rostov；　with　a　contemptuous　smile。
“He’s　a　very；　very　nice；　honest；　and　pleasant　fellow；”　said　Boris。
Rostov　looked　intently　into　Boris’s　face　once　more　and　he　sighed。　Berg　came　back；　and　over　the　bottle　the　conversation　between　the　three　officers　became　livelier。　The　guardsmen　told　Rostov　about　their　march　and　how　they　had　been　fêted　in　Russia；　in　Poland；　and　abroad。　They　talked　of　the　sayings　and　doings　of　their　commander；　the　Grand　Duke；　and　told　anecdotes　of　his　kind…heartedness　and　his　irascibility。　Berg　was　silent；　as　he　always　was；　when　the　subject　did　not　concern　him　personally；　but　à　propos　of　the　irascibility　of　the　Grand　Duke　he　related　with　gusto　how　he　had　had　some　words　with　the　Grand　Duke　in　Galicia；　when　his　Highness　had　inspected　the　regiments　and　had　flown　into　a　rage　over　some　irregularity　in　their　movements。　With　a　bland　smile　on　his　face　he　described　how　the　Grand　Duke　had　ridden　up　to　him　in　a　violent　rage；　shouting　“Arnauts！”　（“Arnauts”　was　the　Tsarevitch’s　favourite　term　of　abuse　when　he　was　in　a　passion）；　and　how　he　had　asked　for　the　captain。　“Would　you　believe　me；　count；　I　wasn’t　in　the　least　alarmed；　because　I　knew　I　was　right。　Without　boasting；　you　know；　count；　I　may　say　I　know　all　the　regimental　drill…book　by　heart；　and　the　standing　orders；　too；　I　know　as　I　know　‘Our　Father　that　art　in　Heaven。’　And　so　that’s　how　it　is；　count；　there’s　never　the　slightest　detail　neglected　in　my　company。　So　my　conscience　was　at　ease。　I　came　forward。”　（Berg　stood　up　and　mimicked　how　he　had　come　forward　with　his　hand　to　the　beak　of　his　cap。　It　would　certainly　have　been　difficult　to　imagine　more　respectfulness　and　more　self…complacency　in　a　face。）　“Well；　he　scolded；　and　scolded；　and　rated　at　me；　and　shouted　his　‘Arnauts；’　and　damns；　and　‘to　Siberia；’　”　said　Berg；　with　a　subtle　smile。　“I　knew　I　was　right；　and　so　I　didn’t　speak；　how　could　I；　count？　‘Why　are　you　dumb？’　he　shouted。　Still　I　held　my　tongue；　and　what　do　you　think；　count？　Next　day　there　was　nothing　about　it　in　the　orders　of　the　day；　that’s　what　comes　of　keeping　one’s　head。　Yes；　indeed；　count；”　said　Berg；　pulling　at　his　pipe　and　letting　off　rings　of　smoke。
“Yes；　that’s　capital；”　said　Rostov；　smiling；　but　Boris；　seeing　that　Rostov　was　disposed　to　make　fun　of　Berg；　skilfully　turned　the　conversation。　He　begged　Rostov　to　tell　them　how　and　where　he　had　been　wounded。　That　pleased　Rostov；　and　he　began　telling　them；　getting　more　and　more　eager　as　he　talked。　He　described　to　them　his　battle　at　Sch？ngraben　exactly　as　men　who　have　taken　part　in　battles　always　do　describe　them；　that　is；　as　they　would　have　liked　them　to　be；　as　they　have　heard　them　described　by　others；　and　as　sounds　well；　but　not　in　the　least　as　it　really　had　been。　Rostov　was　a　truthful　young　man；　he　would　not　have　intentionally　told　a　lie。　He　began　with　the　intention　of　telling　everything　precisely　as　it　had　happened；　but　imperceptibly；　unconsciously；　and　inevitably　he　passed　into　falsehood。　If　he　had　told　the　truth　to　his　listeners；　who；　like　himself；　had　heard　numerous　descriptions　of　cavalry　charges；　and　had　formed　a　definite　idea　of　what　a　charge　was　like　and　were　expecting　a　similar　description；　either　they　would　not　have　believed　him；　or　worse　still；　would　have　assumed　that　Rostov　was　himself　to　blame　for　not　having　performed　the　exploits